


The Countess Bezukhova and Her Husband

by YourFriendlySineguelas



Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy, Voyná i mir | War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
Genre: Epilogue (which Tolstoy fucked up), F/M, Fluff, I just really miss the Great Comet please put it back on Broadway, Married Life, One Shot, PiereTasha fluff, so I guess sort of an alternate Epilogue, uwu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 12:54:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19151422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourFriendlySineguelas/pseuds/YourFriendlySineguelas
Summary: Pierre has finally returned from another trip abroad and Natasha can’t wait to see him again. A short PierreTasha one-shot drabble.





	The Countess Bezukhova and Her Husband

It was deep in the night in the Bezukhov estate in Petersburg. Most of the household was preparing to go to bed. Immediately after seeing the children to bed and kissing them goodnight, Natasha swiftly went up to their drawing room, unable to hold her anticipation. She could not wait any longer to be with her husband again. That evening, he had just returned from a trip abroad. After dinner and seeing his darling children, he went up to the drawing room to read. 

She opened the door excitedly and was about to say something, but then her giddiness died down. Instead, a feeling of pure tenderness filled her when she laid eyes on the sleeping Pierre.

With careful steps, she made her way to him and sat on the small table across him. He was seated on a chair, near by the fireplace, with a book in hand, still on the page he was on. On the armrest, he rested his face on his other hand; his spectacles were nearing the tip of his nose. Quiet breaths left his lips and his broad chest rose and fell slowly. 

It was always difficult for Natasha to be separated from Pierre during his trips. She knew that he must go, but still, not having him by her side was quite unbearable. She always longed to hear his tender tone, his good-natured air, his assuring touch. The moment she entered the drawing room, she wished to run to him and hold him tight, but this was much better to her. 

Natasha always took advantage of these moments, moments where she could just gaze at Pierre without him minding. They always were gazing at each other. They had the attentiveness of watchdogs, never losing sight of each other. However, Natasha simply adored these moments which she loved to keep to herself. She studied his face and all its features, despite having them imprinted in her mind already. 

Pierre’s hair was a slight mess since his return. There was a faint crease on his forehead. She figured it must be from all the thinking he had come across. Though closed, she pictured his eyes, eyes which their second daughter had as well. His always expressed absent-mindedness and deep thoughts but when he gazed upon her, they were so full of warmth and kindness and love. Natasha reveled at this man’s profundity and kindness beyond anything. She loved him in all his entirety because this was what made dear Pierre himself. He was all hers and she, of course, was his.

After having her fill of sightseeing, with careful hands, she slipped the book out of his big hand, and placed it table. She then went to remove his spectacles. The proximity between their faces was so close, it made Natasha blush slightly.

Upon removing his spectacles, Natasha was about to exit the room and fetch Pierre a blanket, but then Pierre let out a deep breath and mumbled, “Tasha...”

Natasha turned back and immediately approached Pierre. He called out to her again and was motioning to find her. 

Natasha caressed his face and sweetly whispered, “I’m here, Pierre. I’m here.” Then she began to rub his cheek with her thumb. Pierre let himself fall into her touch and breathed like a sigh of relief. He placed his hand on hers and slowly opened his eyes. Everything was a big blur without his spectacles but he can see her shape, illuminated by the fire and he can perfectly picture that wonderful bright smile she gave him which made him smile too.

Natasha sat on his lap and with both hands, brought his face to hers and shared with him a long and slow kiss. They have been waiting for this ever since Pierre left the house. There was nothing else in this world but this moment, Pierre thought. Nothing else, but this moment where they are together again, this moment where it is only the two of them. Pierre put his hands on her back and Natasha felt him smile against her lips as the kiss deepened. When they broke away, Natasha placed her head on his chest as he stroked her hair.

“I missed you dearly. I always dread the moment you leave.” said she.

“So did I.” he replied and placed a kiss on her hair.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I felt your presence, but I don’t mind, Natasha. As long as you are there when I wake.” 

The smile on Natasha’s face grew wider. She reached for the spectacles, which she placed on the table, cleaned them up a bit with her skirt and put them back on Pierre’s face. She ran her hand through his head, trying to fix it. Pierre simply watched her as a contented feeling rested inside him.

“Now,” Natasha began and stood up with a hand to Pierre “would Count Bezukhov finally join me in the bedchamber?” She said this with playfully mischievous tone.

Pierre took her hand and kissed it. “My dearest Countess Bezukhova,” he said upon rising from the chair and scooped up Natasha, making her shriek gleefully. “It would be my genuine pleasure.”

The next day, the Rostovs went to the Bezukhov estate to greet Pierre upon his return. However they arrived late in the afternoon, knowing that the count and countess would not be receiving any guests in the morning.


End file.
